


The Well

by nimblermortal



Series: Before They Were Gods [8]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Babysitting, Burgeoning Co-dependency, Gen, Headcanon, Shapeshifting, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimblermortal/pseuds/nimblermortal
Summary: Frigg sometimes leaves Thor with Loki, who attempts to turn him into a hellion. He is sometimes over-successful.





	The Well

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QED](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=QED).



There is a feeling akin to déjà vu that Loki is getting used to: the feeling that whatever just happened is important, is going to happen again. It’s not exactly a clustered or acute feeling; something quieter, more like something is listening. More like _everything_ is listening. It happens on snowy days, sometimes, and it feels like them: the world goes quiet, and you can feel the predators crouching nearby and listening for what moves in the silence. It happens most frequently around Heimdall, and Loki finds it difficult to keep a civil tongue in his head around the man.

But then, he finds it difficult to keep a civil tongue, full stop. Loki is not a civil creature; there is a wildness to him that will never belong in civilization.

Doesn’t stop Frigg from asking him to babysit, though.

Any number of goddesses have told her this is a bad idea. Frigg has told him that it is a wild world and Thor will have to live in it; that Thor could use more wildness in his life; that she will be damned before she forbids his uncle from taking care of him; but none of the excuses stick. All that sticks is that Frigg deliberately comes to Loki when there are plenty of others around to babysit, when she does not really even need a sitter, and asks him to watch Thor. Loki does not quite dare ask why.

And why does he accept? Well - he likes short people. He likes being the tall one, the strong one, the - he lies to everyone, but he tries not to lie to himself. He misses his own children, and having Thor around reminds him that he loved caring for them.

He taught them to raise hell. He teaches Thor to… well, he teaches Thor to - that is, sometimes he can persuade Thor to cross the careful delineations for behavior that he has learned.

Leave Thor around him for a week, however, and he can have the kid streaking across rafters, shrieking that he will never allow Loki to dress him.

Loki could catch him in an instant, but shapeshifting is against the rules of this improvised game. So she balances in the unwieldy, nursely body that she’s costumed herself in and wobbles carefully across the rafters after Thor, who reaches the end of the hall and drops fast enough to make Loki’s heart lurch. But Thor catches himself with his hands on the rafter where his feet once were, pauses for a moment as his shoulders absorb the shock, and then drops the rest of the way to the ground, stopping to grin up at where Loki is now on her hands and knees, carefully preparing to follow Thor on the ground.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Thor screeches, and disappears out the door.

Loki drops the act and takes on a more spritely form. They’re in a hurry, and it winds up more androgynous than the Aesir are comfortable with, but they haven’t got time to decide on a gender. There are a lot of dangerous things in the courtyard Thor just disappeared into, things a kid could really hurt himself with. If it were Loki’s kid, he would have already undergone some careful unsupervised play, enough to cut himself gently and learn that some things are best handled with care; but Loki only gets Thor occasionally, and the boy doesn’t know enough not to hurt himself.

So Loki drops to the ground with some spindly androgynous grace and heads out the door at a pace that is not strictly bipedal. Thor is clearly surprised to find them on his tail that fast, and hop-skips away from the forge, tearing off across the courtyard. Loki follows and finds themself on the opposite side of the well from Thor, which clearly delights the child, who runs circles around the well and Loki, changing direction every time Loki tries to intercept him.

This is a fine game until Thor changes the rules by hopping up onto the well’s edge, and Loki realizes they have _no idea_ how deep that well is. Thor is clumsy enough he could injure himself just falling onto the courtyard side.

So Loki climbs up onto the lip of the well as well, and Thor screams delight and starts to continue the circle game. Loki’s faster here, though, now that they’re in a reasonable body and not just playing the game; they zip around toward Thor, which causes the stupid, clumsy child to run as fast as he can and promptly overbalance and fall. Across the mouth of the well.

Loki instantly leans forward across the well, their own balance off kilter, to press their hands against Thor and stop his falling. Loki can fall, become a sparrow or a fly or a spider or anything and come back up again; but there is nothing they can turn into in a well shaft that will be able to haul Thor back up to the top. If anyone falls, it has to be Loki; and their senses are doing double time trying to keep them balanced as -

No, it is not their senses. It is that déjà vu again, with Loki and Thor standing on the edge of the well, palms flat together, the moment stretching into silence, Thor’s laughter suspended. Loki can see his eyes wide and scared; he’s noticed, at last, the danger. But he’s not panicked, not yet, because he’s looking at Loki’s face, and feeling Loki’s weight against his, and he is a child and he knows there will always be someone there to save him.

_Damn_ his parents for teaching him that.

The moment passes. Time returns. Loki shoves their palms against Thor’s, and both of them go toppling off the well, Thor rolling across the courtyard, Loki spinning midair to land on their feet, feeling the jolt in their knees and staggering, but upright.

They throw Thor’s shirt at him. “Put that on,” they snap. The game is unequivocally over. Thor, dusty and shaken, complies.

Loki is more unnerved, the hairs on his neck still bristling when he pulls Thor back to the bath where he left the brush and starts attacking his new tangles. That image is going to haunt him, he knows: that feeling of weight suspended over a chasm, shared weight the only thing keeping either of them up, and Thor’s eyes, wide, scared, and trusting, with no room for anything else in the world but Loki.

_Damn_ his oblivion. Any child of Loki’s would be looking for a thousand ways to escape.

“Uncle,” says Thor, twisting in Loki’s arms. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Loki shakes him until he turns round again; so Thor stands straight-backed in Loki’s arms, patient with the brush, as he continues.

“Let’s not tell Mom about this,” Thor suggests, and does not understand why Loki shudders against him.

**Author's Note:**

> For QED (.:), as thanks for all of those comments and a result of drawing my attention back this direction.
> 
> This is essentially my headcanon for Thor and Loki - except in the image of my head they are both adults, leaning backwards, and there is no courtyard around them, only void. The moment either of them slips, they both fall.


End file.
